Saltwater Sting
by Suz Singer
Summary: Winnow and Cato return in the final installment of If I Had A Heart. As the 3rd Quarter Quell approaches, Katniss and Peeta are in more danger than ever - with the dangerous twist President Snow and Plutarch Heavensbee have thrown in to the already deadly Hunger Games they have put together. Watch Winnow and Cato wrestle with what they are meant to do - and what is right.
1. Chapter 1

**Beta-read by gkmoberg1**

**Love Don't Die **by** The Fray**

_If I know one thing, that's true_

_It ain't what you say, it's what you do_

_And you don't say much, yeah, that's true_

_But I listen when you do_

_A thousand years go by_

_But love don't die_

**Chapter 1**

Winnow Fontanne looked down at her right wrist – the sight of it cuffed to a bedrail only confused her befuddled mind further. At the sound of her name, she looked up – catching sight of someone familiar. Scarlet hair bound into a severe bun, glowing green eyes and a tiny little body approaching her.

"Artemisia?" Winnow asked, voice thick and hoarse from disuse. She tried to search her mind, her memories for what had brought her to this moment. But her mind was so hazy that she could only get an incomplete image. "What's happened?" she questioned.

At Winnow's second question, Artemisia moved closer and cupped the girl's cheek. "What do you remember, Winnow?" the stylist prompted her.

Winnow closed her eyes in response, trying to focus on the image from before. She remembered smiling at Cato, then him calling her name – as if frightened. She had never heard him like that before. She had turned, then felt a sudden, sharp pain in her chest – and then Winnow was _falling, falling, falling_ – and then there was nothing.

"Did I die?" Winnow asked. Then she shook her head. "No, that's impossible. I'm here," she tried to answer herself.

Artemisia shook her head slowly, the light pressure of her hand leaving Winnow's cheek and then resting on the teenager's left hand. "You did." she whispered. "Katniss Everdeen shot you," the scarlet-haired woman offered as explanation.

"And Cato?" Winnow questioned. The why's and how's were unimportant to her right now – she needed to know the _what's_. Artemisia's gaze shifted away from her uncomfortably, taking far too long to answer for Winnow's liking.

The teenager started to grow hysterical, yanking futilely at her restraint, pulling her other hand away from Artemisia. "He's nearby," Artemisia said suddenly, standing to try and calm her charge. Winnow stilled immediately, falling back against the bed. "You can see him soon. After I explain what is going on," the stylist added.

"What _happened _in the Games?!" Winnow demanded.

"You both died." Artemisia answered concisely. The teenager looked at her with incredulity – with a fair bit of skepticism and disbelief mixed in. "You are alive _now_ because of the Game-makers' plan for the Quarter Quell, Winnow. I was assigned to help you and Cato prepare for the Games." Artemisia attempted to explain.

Winnow rested her head back, a long breath whistling through her lips. "We're going back?" she breathed. The older woman nodded.

"You're going up against Katniss – again." Artemisia began to explain, watching her charge carefully. Winnow sighed, her head lolling to the side. "If you kill her in the arena, the Capitol will let you go home. You'll get to live,"

"And Cato?" Winnow asked again.

"He has the same chance." Artemisia answered simply. Her attention was drawn away from her charge when she heard a commotion outside the door.

"I'll do what I have to." The dark-haired teenager said resolutely. She looked on in confusion as the redhead rose to her feet and went to the door. She cracked the door open and peered outside – and the shouting filtered in and Winnow's eyes widened when she recognized _his _voice.

Artemisia, however, flung the door open and took a few steps out the door. Cato Elestren struggled with four Peacekeepers in the hall, trying to reach Winnow's door. Winnow herself could not see him from her bed – but she leaned as far to the side as she could - to investigate her suspicion. "Release him." Artemisia said, making all five males to still in surprise at her intervention.

"But ma'am-" One of the Peacekeepers protested.

"He is _my_ charge. Release him now." Artemisia ordered again. The massive blond's chest heaved with exertion, staring at the woman before him impassively. The Peacekeepers did not release him immediately as she expected. "If you do not do as I say, I will be lodging a complaint with Plutarch Heavensbee immediately. You are damaging a subject." she threatened.

Those words had Artemisia's desired effect on the Peacekeepers – for they dropped Cato and stepped away immediately. Cato faltered for only a second before he caught his balance and stood up straight – his massive stature intimidating to the smaller Capitolians as he was at least a foot taller and twice as wide as them.

The blond glared at the men he had been wrestling with – inspiring them to return to their posts hastily. Then he turned to Artemisia. "Winnow's waiting." The redhead stated softly, gesturing for him to enter the room.

An uncertain expression crossed Cato's face – as if he was unsure what he would find inside. He took a few steps in to the room, his eyes widening at the sight of Winnow laying in the bed before him.

He froze there in the doorway, and Artemisia pushed him forward a little so she could enter and close the door behind them. Still he stood there, staring in disbelief at the woman he loved and thought he had lost. Held as she died.

Sick of waiting for him to make up his mind, Winnow flung up her free arm to reach for him. "Cato!" she cried. And that seemed to be just enough to wake the blond from his daze. Cato rushed towards her, snaking his arms beneath her back and squeezing her to him. "Cato, Cato…" Winnow murmured, her unrestrained arm just as tight around him.

"Winnie," Cato breathed, slanting his lips over hers in order to eliminate any imagined distance between them. He kissed her roughly, his fingertips biting into her flesh as he palmed her, as if checking her over to make sure everything was there. But Winnow couldn't bring herself to care – she had received unexpected, traumatizing news and was endlessly grateful to have him in her arms.

Cato was trying to convince himself that she was truly there – truly _alive_. After what seemed like only a few short moments, he could hear the scarlet-haired woman's high voice buzzing – but he disregarded her – ignoring all but Winnow beneath his hands, beneath his lips.

When he finally decided to pull back from her lips, Winnow panted for breath. Cato sat on the edge of the bed, careful to keep hold of her. "_How_?" he asked finally, glancing from Winnow to the other woman – Artemisia, he thought.

Winnow's hand clutched at him, pulling him closer and it was exactly as Cato wanted as well – to feel her closer, his body to feel the weight of hers. He crawled onto the bed, Winnow scooting over to the edge to share the bed with him. He ended up half beneath her, her wrist still uncomfortably cuffed to the bedrail.

Cato looked at the metal cuff in confusion, but deemed it unimportant in that moment. "I woke up in that bed – in that room – " he began.

"You weren't supposed to wake until I came to you." Artemisia interjected.

Cato glared at the redhead for interrupting him. "I heard your voice through the vent," he continued, nodding to Winnow. "And I had to find you." Cato said. His grip on her was tight and unrelenting – he seemed fearful of losing contact with her for even a moment. "So what is going on?" he questioned.

Winnow leaned her head against his shoulder. "We're going into the games again, Cato. That's why we're alive." she informed him. Cato looked down at her in disbelief. "But President Snow has promised – if we kill our rivals in the arena, we can go home."

"Home?" Cato asked, furrowing his brows. After all – home was two very different places to them both.

"Wherever we like. It doesn't matter, Cato. Only that we'll actually have a chance at having a life. Together." Winnow said hastily.

"Who are our rivals?"

"Peeta and Katniss, of course." Winnow answered. She had only been told about Katniss – but she had surmised that Peeta _had_ to be the other one.

"Specifically, Cato is Peeta's rival and Winnow is Katniss' rival." Artemisia cut in.

"Does it matter?" the blond asked. He was growing weary of the older woman's interruptions as well as her very presence.

"_Yes_. If anyone but you kills your rival… the deal is off. _You _have to kill Katniss, Winnow. _You_ have to kill Peeta, Cato. If anyone else does… you are taken from the arena and Snow will have you killed." Artemisia informed them urgently.

Cato and Winnow traded a look. "It's a slim chance." Cato remarked.

"It's better than no chance! It's better than being dead!" Winnow insisted. Cato couldn't argue with that. Wouldn't. Not after holding Winnow for such a short time. He _needed_ more. He _would_ _have _more.

"So how do you two feel – for having been raised for the dead?" Artemisia asked in curiosity.

Cato looked to Winnow and grinned. "Better than ever." he said, turning an expectant look to his lover.

"Alright, I suppose." Winnow answered after a moment of hesitation. Artemisia and Cato frowned at her.

"What do you mean, Winnow?" Artemisia prompted.

"I'm sore all the way down to my bones," the dark-haired girl answered. "Aren't you? Just a little bit?" she asked Cato – who shook his head slowly. Winnow's expression turned to confusion, and the others' to concern.

**! **

After waking, after everything Artemisia knew had been divulged to them – Cato and Winnow had been led from the sublevel they had woken on – up two more levels to where they would be staying. Unlike their first stay in the Capitol preceding the Games, the rooms weren't as lush. Not to say that they were unlivable or even uncomfortable – but they were smaller – and underground.

Secrecy – about them, their purpose, the mere fact that they were _alive_ – was essential, Artemisia had insisted. She had told them she hadn't even known what her assignment was until ten minutes before she had entered Winnow's room.

Cato and Winnow's suite consisted of a small bedroom, a bathroom and an even smaller kitchen area. All of it bore handsome decorations and cushy furniture – and the pair were very comfortable there. As soon as Artemisia had led them there, she had left them – sensing they needed to be alone.

As soon as they were alone, Cato and Winnow had immediately acquainted themselves with the bedroom. It had only taken Winnow a moment to reassure Cato she was fine – that she was not _that_ weak. Only sore, not injured. They wasted no time in rediscovering each other's bodies – and spent hours and hours doing so.

There was no real sense of time passing in their suite- there was no clock, no windows – nothing to signify that any time had passed at all. It was only when Cato and Winnow were too exhausted to go on that they finally paused and took a moment to rest.

Cato grinned. In his arms, Winnow was limp, sleepy and oh so very pliable to his greedy hands. "Are you hungry, Winnie?" he asked.

"Mmhmm," she murmured in response. She didn't bother opening her eyes, only curling closer to her lover and heat source.

"I'll go find something." Cato said as he pulled away. Winnow groaned in protest, her arms tightening around him. She slid across the bed with him as Cato persisted. "Winnie, I'll be right back," he reassured her, the grin on his face growing wider.

Winnow released him reluctantly, cracking one eye open. "I _still _don't like that name," she muttered, turning over and cuddling to a pillow. Cato laughed and searched along the floor for the lounge pants he had been wearing earlier.

Once he had found the missing garment and put it on, Cato left the bedroom and crossed into the kitchen area. In the icebox was a plate of prepared sandwiches and a jug of juice. He grabbed both and managed to snag two glasses on his way back to the bedroom.

Winnow had dozed off in his absence and Cato planned to take great pleasure in waking her. There was a very male sense of pride for him to see her that way – exhausted and bare after being ravished by him. Cato had no doubt that he was just as tired as she – but he was wide awake. He feared falling asleep and waking to only find her presence a dream.

He set the food on the table beside the bed and climbed back beneath the covers. As the bed shifted from Cato's movements, Winnow rolled over and sleepily reached for him. He couldn't tear the smile from his lips as he tugged the girl into his lap.

Winnow was much easier to deal with sleepy, Cato decided. It was the time where he was undisputedly in charge. Before she had trusted him, Winnow had been quick to wake and strike out if he had nudged her on accident or not. But since they had admitted their feelings to each other – his lover had been putty in his hands.

Cato liked both sides to her – he liked arguing with her over control (though, usually, control always fell to Winnow in the end) – and being able to have his way later. Any time he spent curled up with her was a time he looked forward to.

It wasn't the sex. Well, of course Cato enjoyed that too – but it wasn't the part he couldn't wait for. Maybe it would be different if Winnow held out on him, but her appetites seemed to be equal to his – another thing he liked about her. They were in sync. He would not want her to feel forced to satisfy him if she did not want to.

Cato had never felt that was the case. Winnow always seemed to want as much as he did. She might fancy herself a good actress – and others always seemed to fall for it, but Cato could see right through her. Her expression was always schooled, always indifferent – but he could always see the emotion that lay underneath.

It was Winnow's eyes. They were an ordinary pale blue that seemed quite unremarkable, at first. But as Cato got to know her, he noticed more. He noticed how her eyes grew darker in the midst of lust or anger. Noticed how they grew lighter when she was truly, _truly_ happy. Cato had only seen the latter a handful of times, and was determined to make those eyes appear more often.

It was her eyes that betrayed her. He had seen Winnow with a saccharine-sweet smile on her lips and murder in her eyes. Once or twice directed at him – more often at Glimmer or the boy from Three. While that expression might trick someone else – they had to have sensed the danger, Cato reasoned. It was so obvious to him.

Right now her eyes were a hazy blue – between her default and lighter eyes. She was too tired to go to either extreme. She smiled up at him, eyes half-lidded and heavy. "Time to eat, Winnie." Cato said, plucking a sandwich from the plate and wrapping Winnow's hands around the food.

Winnow groaned dramatically, dropping her head onto his shoulder. She nibbled at it half-heartedly as Cato wolfed down two sandwiches in the time she had eaten half. "'m not gonna let you sleep until you finish one." He said as he chewed.

"Shut up _Dad._" Winnow groused in response, not bothering to lift her head from where it rested on his shoulder.

Cato grimaced. "I personally think that's a disgusting thought, but if that's what you're into…" he attempted to tease her.

There was not much of a response. "Shut up," Winnow merely repeated, still nibbling on her sandwich. "Argue with you later," she muttered, shoving the last quarter of her sandwich into her mouth. Cato chuckled, watching her swallow the dry food slowly. That was when he decided to offer her a glass of juice.

Winnow glared at him for not offering it earlier, snatching the glass from his hand. She tilted her head back and took a long draught, juice dribbling down her chin. Winnow offered it back to him and he set it down on the table beside them – and then, in sync, the pair sank down under the covers.

With a fair bit of fumbling, Cato managed to turn off the lights with the remote beside the bed and then he turned his attention to getting comfortable. Winnow dragged the covers over them both before turning and spreading out beside him.

While not entwined as Cato would have liked – Winnow lay right beside him – and she did not protest as he threw an arm over her. In fact, she hitched her leg over his own, bringing their bodies closer together. Cato exhaled in relief, his warm breath hitting her cheek. Winnow giggled lowly and pressed her lips to his for just a moment before tucking her face in the crook between his neck and shoulder - her new favorite place, it seemed.

It wasn't long until he felt her breathing even out and her limbs go slack. Cato drew her just a little closer, burying his nose in her hair. The dark strands didn't have the scent he remembered- instead bearing the harsh smell of chemicals. He hoped it wouldn't take long to wear off – it was an unpleasant odor.

After around an hour of holding Winnow and waiting for sleep to come, Cato finally began to drift off. His sleep was thankfully dreamless and peaceful.

* * *

><p><strong>Alright, lovelies... I'm eager to hear your thoughts. Review for me.<strong>

**Love, Suz.**


	2. Chapter 2

**No Easy Way **by** Digital Daggers**

_I'm a victim of my instinct_

_Unraveling and reeling, think I'm wise_

_Our freedom can be deadly_

_I watch the walls around me, falling down_

_So far away, from safe and sound_

_I've lost control, I've lost control_

**Chapter 2**

For the second time in their short relationship, Winnow woke before her lover. Cato's arms were tight around her – his grip did not relax even in his sleep. She had no desire to wrestle her way out of his arms. It sounded far too tedious in that moment – and she didn't want to wake him.

Beneath Cato's eyes were dark circles that made him look oh so very tired, and so _young_. It was as she looked at him then that Winnow noticed something was off. She couldn't put her finger on it – but she knew that his features were different somehow.

Frustrated by her inability to figure it out, Winnow stared at Cato intensely. His features were just slightly sharper, just slightly different. It was so minuscule a difference that Winnow wondered if she was imagining it.

But what reason would the Capitol's scientists have for changing his features? Winnow had not had a single moment to look at herself in a mirror, so she had no idea if her own appearance had been altered. She didn't particularly care if it had. She just wanted to know _why_.

It didn't take Cato long to wake – not with Winnow's gaze fixed upon his face. A grin spread over his lips and he released Winnow just long enough to stretch out – arms spread out wide. "What are you looking at?" Cato asked. His expression was pleased – as if he thought she was merely admiring him.

"There's something different about your face." Winnow remarked quietly.

Cato's face went blank for a brief moment before it twisted. Winnow watched him carefully. "The scientists probably had one hell of a job reconstructing me. It's not surprising I'm not as I was." He answered bluntly.

She was confused and concerned by his answer. "Why did you need reconstructing?" Winnow asked, placing her hand on his arm. He seemed to relax under her touch, though he still took a long pause before answering.

"Probably because my face was gnawed off by Mutts and then Fire Bitch shot me in the face." Cato said bitterly. Winnow flinched back as if she had been struck – and then he was the one reaching for her.

She had not known how he died. With the whirlwind of a day that they'd been together, she had not thought to ask. "I will kill her," Winnow said lowly, her shock turning to fury. "I never thought she could be so cruel! I will kill her – for what she did to us both," she added, allowing Cato to pull her back to his arms.

He smiled down at Winnow half-heartedly. Her words, her reaction to the news proved her love true – not that he had ever doubted her. "It was an act of mercy at that point." Cato pointed out, the curve of his lips faltering.

"Just how long did it take for her to show you mercy?" Winnow questioned in response.

Cato didn't answer at first – and she knew it was far too long. "I don't know," he admitted. "I just remember being so grateful – so _happy_ it was going to be over,"

Winnow seemed stricken by his words – and it puzzled Cato. "Is that how it was for you?" he asked.

"What?" Winnow questioned in response, distracted.

"When you died." He clarified. He wouldn't explain any further.

Winnow shook her head. "No… I was terrified," she confessed. Cato frowned, pulling her closer. She pressed her ear against his chest, closing her eyes. She let his steady heartbeat comfort her. "Everything happened _so_ fast. I didn't know what had happened – it was like I was numb. It wasn't until I saw you, saw how scared you were that I realized what had happened." she explained.

Cato's heart gave a sort of wobble as he realized it had been him that had made her death so terrible. "After I saw you, I was scared. I didn't want to leave you alone." she murmured. Cato didn't reply. After a long few moments, Winnow spoke up again. "I know I said I was okay with dying… but once I was there…" she didn't finish her sentence, and she didn't need to.

Cato understood.

* * *

><p>Plutarch Heavensbee stood at the head of a large room filled with couches. There were Peacekeepers at every entrance or exit and twenty-four teenagers. There were twelve couches, but there was only one teenager to a couch, the rest opting to stand.<p>

Except, of course, for Winnow and Cato. They sat at the back – Cato's arm curled around her shoulders. They had glared at any of the others who had dared to look at them, much less approach them.

Heavensbee cleared his throat, trying to gain the attention of the few teenagers who had been inattentive. "I understand you must have a lot of questions. I'm Plutarch Heavensbee, the Head Game-maker for the 75th Hunger Games. I want to answer any questions you may have." He said, gesturing to them all – as if gesturing for them to begin.

Winnow leaned towards Cato – "What happened to Crane?" she whispered into his ear. Cato frowned as he then wondered the same thing.

"How long is it till the Games?" a girl with wavy dark blonde hair asked from the front of the room. The shirt she wore had a large three on the arm – meaning she had to be the rival of one of the Victors from District 3. Winnow and Cato had devised this as their own clothing bore twelve's instead of their actual home district.

"Three months," Plutarch answered concisely.

"That means… our rivals haven't even been reaped yet!" a dark-skinned boy shouted out. There was a Four on his sleeve – Winnow narrowed her eyes at him. Then she and Cato shared a look of uncertainty – the Games were rigged. It couldn't be clearer.

"Yes." Plutarch confirmed. "This year's games – the 75th Hunger Games, the 3rd Quarter Quell, will be a very special year."

"Isn't every year _special_?" Winnow suggested dryly. Cato glared at her for speaking up. He had suggested they shouldn't bring any attention to themselves. Winnow had agreed – earlier. But now it seemed as if she couldn't resist being snarky.

Plutarch looked over to her – a dangerous sort of smile crossing his lips. "Of course – each year's games are special. But this year's… it _is _different. President Snow was very unhappy with the outcome of last year's Hunger Games."

Winnow and Cato looked up with raised eyebrows. "There has been civil unrest following last year's finales. Districts have been rioting, protesting against our dear Capitol." Plutarch continued, his beady eyes fixing upon Winnow.

She sank back against the couch, lowering her eyes. Winnow could sense there was something dangerous about him – but what she couldn't decide was if she was intimidated by him. Her heartbeat had accelerated when his gaze had fixed itself on her – and she knew that was clear warning. Cato squeezed her shoulder, comfortingly.

"President Snow and I have decided to cull the existing Victors. Those with the most… troublesome characteristics have been selected. And now you are here. Alive. You will all have your chances to take revenge. And by doing so, you will help the Capitol." Heavensbee explained very calmly.

Winnow looked over to Cato, biting her lip. A little of the hope in his eyes faded. They didn't want to aid the Capitol. But, neither did they want to go against them. The Capitol was _counting _on them all to be too selfish to care about the repercussions of their actions.

"And when you help the Capitol… she helps you. You all know the prize for killing your rival. You will get to go home. Go wherever you like, frankly. You will all receive stipends from the Capitol for your service. You will have the chance to grow up, have families and grow old." Plutarch continued, clasping his hands before his belly.

Some of the other teenagers wrinkled their noses in distaste at his last words – but they looked no less eager – for blood, for revenge.

Cato and Winnow looked at each other again, expressions conflicted. Did their small reward really outweigh the means – and the repercussions their actions might have? That reward, that chance – it was all they wanted. But could Cato and Winnow stand to live in that world when the Capitol could so easily turn their backs on them – as they did to these Victors?

* * *

><p><strong>I am absolutely floored with the wonderful reaction to Saltwater Sting so far. To address some reviews : small details that may seem insignificant now... they come in to play later on. To others: whether Cato and Winnow are with the Capitol or the Rebellion... it is quite likely that they will choose who suits their interests best - and that they may just ride the line between the two...<strong>

**Alright, please review again for me. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Black Sheep **by** Metric**

_Hello again, friend of a friend, I knew you when_

_Our common goal was waiting for the world to end_

_Now that the truth is just a rule that you can bend_

_You crack the whip, shape-shift and trick the past again_

**Chapter 3**

After breakfast the next day, three Peacekeepers had come to their door. It seemed Cato and Winnow were expected to report to training. Cato was a little reluctant, but Winnow saw no reason not to. "Why not? What else do we have to do?" Winnow asked. She sat at the small dining table, pulling on a pair of shoes.

The door was open, the Peacekeepers stood crowded in the threshold. They seemed hesitant to enter – perhaps they had heard of Cato's little spat with the others a few days ago?

Cato scowled down at his lover. "You know what else we could do." he muttered. He was already completely dressed – and likely itching for some exercise, but he wouldn't mind conducting it in the bedroom.

Winnow rolled her eyes. "You know that only works a few _certain_ muscles," she teased as she stood, crossing to the door.

Cato stuck out a tongue at her. "That's a full body workout and you _know _it." he retorted, following after her. One of the Peacekeepers reached for Winnow's arm and she shuffled back a step, her very expression filled with warning.

Cato made a disapproving noise at the back of his throat, taking a step to stand in front of her. "Now, now – touch either of us, I'll be keeping the offending limb." Cato threatened with a deceivingly pleasant smile on his lips. Winnow made an exaggerated biting motion behind him.

The Peacekeepers' reactions to those motions were hidden behind their masks – but they stepped back. The tallest gestured for the teenagers to go ahead of them. It was a short walk to their training center. It happened to be right next door to the room they'd been in the day before when meeting with Heavensbee.

More Peacekeepers stood outside the training center's doors – along with two Capitolians in white lab coats – doctors, they presumed. When Winnow and Cato come before them, one of doctors brusquely ordered them to roll up their sleeves as he prepared an injection.

Cato shook his head. "No." he said stubbornly. Peacekeepers descended on them instantly. Cato and Winnow quickly found themselves with guns pointed at their heads.

"Accept the injection or accept the bullet." the second doctor requested softly. She was smaller – with silver hair and golden eyes – her eyes seemed to plead with Cato not to be so stubborn. As if she held some personal stake in their survival.

Winnow quickly rolled up her sleeve, ignoring Cato's incredulous look. "What is it?" she asked as the silver-haired woman swabbed her arm.

Cato tugged on Winnow's arm, but she stood firm – and did not look at him. "A health supplement." the first doctor answered concisely. The female doctor quickly and painlessly gave Winnow the injection.

Winnow pulled her sleeve back down after the doctor had secured a tiny bandage over the injection site. She stepped aside, looking to Cato expectantly.

Cato sighed, shoving up his sleeve and offering it to the male doctor. The doctor did not mince words or actions – swiftly swabbing his arm and then injecting Cato. His lips curved up when Cato winced.

The Peacekeepers lowered their guns, and gestured for them to enter the training center. Winnow grabbed Cato by the arm and towed him inside. All of the other 'tributes' were already there – quite a few looking to the couple at their noisy entrance.

Winnow and Cato drifted around the center for a few minutes – until the others turned back to whatever they had been doing. Then Winnow turned on her heel and glared at Cato. "What the _hell_ was that out there?!" she demanded.

Cato sighed, smoothing a hand over his face. "In District Two, it's taboo to use supplements to get stronger in the Career Academy. If someone's caught using them, the shame will follow them all their life." he attempted to explain. "You either have it or you don't. There's no shame in not having what it takes to become a Career. There _is_ shame in cheating your way there, though." Cato continued.

Winnow's expression sobered. She brushed her hand along the length of his arm. Cato caught it in his own and held it. Winnow's gaze was focused on their joined hands when she spoke. "We were dead, Cato. This is meant to help us against Katniss and Peeta. We will take it. We can deal with shame later, after we _win._" Cato nodded after a moment.

After their short talk, they continued to the sword and trident stations. Winnow and Cato collected their respective weapons and continued to the mats set up in the center's left corner. They had decided to spar against each other first – so they might be able to pinpoint each other's weaknesses and attempt to help each other work on them.

Cato and Winnow had trained for two hours before they were disturbed by another. They had kept to themselves, practicing quietly together. But when they had stopped for a few minutes to rest, one of their fellow 'tributes' came to greet them.

A female with a large 'Four' stamped on her sleeve moved stood before them. "I heard you two were in this past Hunger Games," she remarked. Her voice was deceivingly sweet – what with the malice that lay beneath her dull grey eyes. She had olive-toned skin and long, curly dark hair. She was quite pretty – but alarmingly thin; which turned the impression of her from a pretty girl to an unfortunate creature.

"That's right." Cato answered, eyeing her up and down with suspicion. Winnow rose to her feet slowly, taking measured steps till she stood at Cato's side.

"I'm Orchid," the girl introduced herself, holding her hand out to Winnow first. Winnow puckered her lips at the hand held out to her and remained still. Seeming unperturbed except for a minute tightening of her mouth, Orchid swung her hand to Cato.

He shook her hand genially. "I'm Cato. And that's Winnow. She doesn't have any manners," he greeted, flashing Winnow a playful glare. She stuck her tongue out in response. "What Games were you in?" Cato asked.

A slight smirk lit Orchid's features. "The 10th," she answered.

Both Cato and Winnow shot her looks of disbelief. "That means you were dead for sixty-five years!" Cato exclaimed.

"You were _dust,_" Winnow said.

"Just shows how technology's come along, yes?" Orchid suggested. It seemed she took offense to their words, but she hid it quickly.

Winnow folded her arms over her chest. "Why don't you get to the point? What do you want?" Winnow uttered. It took a lot of effort to cut off her sentence before the words 'you old bat' escaped with the rest of them.

"Well, I thought we might be able to help each other." Orchid said uneasily. As if she sensed she was gaining no favor with the two. Winnow simply rolled her eyes and walked away – heading back to the mat and picking up her trident. "Is that a no?" the other girl asked with a raise of her eyebrows.

"I'm afraid so." Cato answered, glancing between the two dark-haired females. "At least for now, Orchid. We're not competing against each other, you know." he continued.

Orchid's pretty face twisted in a look of anger. It quickly faded, though, and she didn't seem all that discouraged. "I understand." she squeezed out through gritted teeth. She turned away – and only made it a few steps away before Winnow called out to her.

"Who is your rival?" she asked suddenly. She had a feeling she already knew – but she wanted to hear it from Orchid.

"Mags," Orchid answered, eyeing Winnow up and down as if she had already known that the old woman was one of Winnow's mentors. Then she walked away – joining a few of the other 'tributes' at survival stations.

Cato crossed the short distance to Winnow as she opened her mouth to speak and interrupted her before she could get a syllable out. "Let me guess – you're going to kill her," he suggested dryly.

Winnow raised her eyebrows. "Is that a problem?" she asked in response.

"I think we should focus on Katniss and Peeta." Cato answered.

"Mags is _eighty_. She has no chance against her old rival." Winnow protested.

"I understand, Winnow. But she is _not_ our concern." he tried to convince her.

"But she is! Mags and Finnick _are_ my concern," Winnow whispered heatedly. She glanced to the dark-skinned boy who stood only a few yards away. He also had a Four stamped on his sleeve – and Winnow had already found out he was Kern Allerdyce – Finnick's rival.

Cato sighed dramatically, throwing his hands into the air. "_Fine_. But just those two, alright? Then we worry only about Katniss and Peeta – and the others, on a case-by-case basis." he insisted. Winnow smiled and nodded, looping her arms around one of his.

"How about a little tribute-watching?" Winnow suggested, gesturing with her chin towards the others.

Cato grinned down at her. "Shall we take a little turn around the center?" he asked, offering her his arm. The dark-haired girl nodded in response – allowing him to lead her around quite slowly – watching the two rivals of interest quite closely.

* * *

><p>At lunch-time, the lead trainer had informed them all that they were only required to attend training in the morning, though the center would be open at all hours. Winnow and Cato had decided to return to their rooms intending to relax and strategize.<p>

They had been back for only a few minutes when Artemisia entered, a tablet in hand. "Geez, you following us?" Cato joked from the icebox as he tossed a water bottle to Winnow.

"Sort of. Your every movement is tracked. I get an alert every time you cross a doorway." Artemisia answered hastily, setting down her tablet on the small kitchen table. The pint-sized woman looked harried – her scarlet hair askew from an elegant chignon.

Cato and Winnow traded displeased expressions. "You alright there, Artie?" Winnow asked, immediately earning a glare from the other woman for the nickname.

"I only have a moment. I'm on my way to a meeting, but I wanted to let you know that I've queued up the past Hunger Games up on the television for you to view. I thought you might want to study up." Artemisia informed them.

"Brilliant. Thanks." Cato said quietly. He wasn't quite sure what to think of Artemisia yet – Winnow seemed to trust her, which was a great plus on her side – but he was still unsure.

Artemisia's eyes shifted to her other tribute – Winnow. "I'll be back shortly. There's something we must discuss." she said over her shoulder as she exited. Artemisia's words queued a synchronized eyebrow raise from both teenagers.

"Is there a television in the bedroom?" Winnow asked as soon as the door closed behind Artemisia. Cato cast a glance around the small kitchen area.

"I didn't notice." He answered honestly. "There isn't one out here, so it must be in there." Cato added, gesturing for her to follow as he entered the bedroom. Winnow stood and shuffled in, letting out a giggle as she saw Cato throw himself down on the bed. "Will you get the queue started?" Cato requested, voice muffled as his face was pressed into the covers.

"But I don't know how to work a television," Winnow protested – prompting a look of disbelief from her lover as he sat up. "What? I've never had one."

Cato huffed. "Fine, fine. Hand me the remote, then." he said, pointing to a clear square on the dresser against the wall.

Winnow picked it up and inspected it carefully. "This thing?" she asked, closing the distance between her and Cato as she examined it.

"Yeah, that thing." he responded, holding his hand out for it impatiently. Winnow shrugged and dropped it into his hand, climbing on to the bed beside him. Cato tapped the near-invisible buttons on the remote swiftly, turning on the television and bringing up a list of videos. "Which one do you want to watch first?" Cato asked.

"The 10th." Winnow answered instantly, laying on her belly comfortably beside him.

"Of course," he said dully as if he had expected this answer - selecting the first video listed. Then Cato moved lay down beside her – not without grabbing a pillow to cushion his chin on as the video began. "It's this button and this button to fast forward or rewind," Cato instructed, showing Winnow on the remote. She was better at scanning through and pinpointing important points.

Winnow fast-forwarded through the interviews and all the material before the Games – though she couldn't help but pause and marvel at how beautiful Mags was at a mere 14 years old. Mags was still beautiful at 80, of course - but it was in a different way than when she had been young. Mags' beauty now came from her wisdom and gentleness, her mothering instinct to care and protect all that came to her. Winnow missed her quite keenly in that moment.

The pair couldn't help but notice Orchid as well as they watched the movie – she looked exactly as she did now – dark eyes full of danger and a sharp, angled body that was much stronger than it looked. She was from District 12, as Winnow had guessed from her olive skin tone and thin stature.

Orchid had been offered a spot in the Careers from the very beginning, once they had seen how very bloodthirsty she was. What Orchid lacked in strength, she made up for in ferocity, speed and persistence. "She's the clear front runner," Cato remarked thoughtfully. "Perhaps we shouldn't write her off." he suggested.

Winnow paused the video, turning a look of aggravation to him. "You're joking." she said sharply.

Cato rolled his eyes. "No. If you want to kill her, it might be easier by convincing her to trust us," he explained.

"That might have worked on Glimmer, but somehow I don't think Orchid means to trust us in any situation, even if we allied with her." Winnow argued, turning back to the video and pressing play. "Let's just watch this and see what we think afterwards," she suggested. Cato nodded reluctantly.

The scene that played directly after their conversation showed Orchid killing two of her allies before escaping the bloodbath with a weapon and full backpack of supplies. Winnow turned to Cato with raised eyebrows. "Shut up. Watch." Cato muttered, pointing to the screen.

Winnow looked back to the screen to see Orchid running through the terrain – not unlike the arena they had been in - and collide straight into Mags. Winnow's heart skipped a beat in fear for Mags, even though she _knew_ that this was a sixty-five year old recording and Mags had clearly survived.

But right now, the bloodthirsty girl from Twelve had Mags pinned to the ground with a knife at her throat. Winnow turned away from the screen, hiding her face in Cato's shoulder as Orchid tortured Mags. Cato threw an arm around his lover to comfort her silently.

The fourteen year old version of Winnow's mentor screamed only once, trying to keep quiet lest she drew those she assumed to be Orchid's allies to their location. It was by pure chance that Mags escaped – the Game-makers began to announce the deaths from the bloodbath by cannon-fire. The noise had startled Orchid and the distraction was all Mags needed to knock the other girl on her back and _run_.

Winnow rested her head against Cato's clothed shoulder more loosely once Mags had gotten free from the other girl. "Tell me again how you want to ally with that monster." Winnow whispered.

"Is she anymore a monster than we are?" Cato questioned in return.

Winnow raised her head to gaze at him. His question had caught her in surprise and it was obvious in her features. She sat up, looking anywhere else but him. "Is that really what you think of yourself? Of me?" Winnow asked quietly.

Cato sat up as well, his jaw tensing. He had not intended for her to take it that way. He had intended for her to argue with him that they weren't, to make him feel better. "How can you _not_?" he retorted. "After what we've done…"

Winnow closed her eyes for a long moment. "We did what we had to survive." she said.

"But, you see, that's the problem. We _didn't_ survive." Cato bit out, face screwing up in anger. "We were brought back to life to carry out an assassination plot so the Capitol doesn't have to. They're making us into jokes, into _villains_," he ranted on.

Winnow didn't look at him, remaining silent all the time he spoke. She didn't give him what he wanted. A reaction. A fight. A screaming fest that would attract all of Panem's attention. Her gaze remained focused on a blank spot of the wall, her face utterly emotionless.

Her eyes were dark. Black as Cato had ever seen them. "I see." Winnow said finally, her mouth barely moving to form the words.

"_What_ do you see?" Cato demanded.

Winnow stood. "What you truly think of me." she answered monotonously, taking a few steps towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Cato questioned, jumping up from the bed. He lifted his hand to grab at her – but the look on Winnow's face quickly convinced him not to lay a hand on her. She didn't answer, pressing the button at the doorway, causing the door to open. "Winnie," he said pleadingly.

An exquisite pain twisted Winnow's features. Cato's stomach squirmed uncomfortably. "_Never_ call me that again." she warned lowly. Cato's face fell.

"Winnow, please." he said.

She turned her back on him. "I really thought you were different. I thought you understood me." Winnow said, letting out a bitter laugh. "But I see now. You're just like all the others, Cato." she uttered as she left the bedroom.

Cato let her go, running his hands through his hair, gripping his scalp tightly. He stared at the closed door, willing for it to open again. Winnow would never listen to him now. It had to be her that decided to listen to him, to let him apologize. If he went after her, he would only fuck things up further.

Thirty seconds after Winnow had left, the door slid back open. Cato looked up with hopeful eyes. Winnow had returned, yes, but it was with Artemisia's hand firm on her shoulder. The dark-haired girl's eyes were fixed on the ground.

"Now I don't know what's going on right now, but I don't care. You two have to be a united front or you won't even have a front, understand?" Artemisia said bluntly. "Are you in?" she followed up. Cato nodded and looked to Winnow.

"Are you _in_?" Artemisia repeated harshly, sharp nails digging into the girl's shoulder.

Winnow jerked away, leaning against the dresser a short step away. "_Fine_," she bit out, refusing to look at either one of them.

"Good." Artemisia said. "Because what I have to say to you now will put all of our lives in danger,"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Big, tense, emotional chapter. I really want to hear your thoughts! Review, please.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Biting Down **by** Lorde**

_Skip a hit, don't make a sound_

_It feels better biting down_

_Breathed so deep I thought I'd drown_

_It feels better biting down_

_Listen to the beats resound_

_It feels better biting down_

**Chapter 4**

_"Because what I have to say to you now will put all of our lives in danger,"_

"Then don't say it." Cato said at once, eyes narrowing at the scarlet-haired woman.

"It's not that simple." Artemisia said. "Plus," she started brightly. "This whole area is not under surveillance. The Capitol does not want to risk any news escaping of their plan." She gave Winnow a gentle push towards Cato. "Sit." Artemisia instructed.

Both teenagers sat on the bed as instructed – Winnow sure to put distance between the two. Cato looked to her longingly. "Finnick's sent me a message." Artemisia remarked. Winnow's head shot up, eyes wide. "He mentioned my masterpiece. Repeatedly. Saying how he wanted the masterpiece to be on his side." she continued, eyes trained on Winnow's.

Cato glanced from one woman to the other in confusion. "What are you talking about?" he questioned.

Winnow did not look up from where she had her head in her hands. "It's what Artemisia called me, before. _I'm_ her masterpiece." she said lowly.

Artemisia paced back and forth before them. "He knows about you. I don't know how or why, but he does. And from that message, I assume he wants you in his alliance."

Winnow nodded. "Of course I'm on his side-" she began – and Cato opened his mouth to object.

But Artemisia spoke first. "There's a catch," she cautioned them. Cato and Winnow fixed her with similarly wary expressions, waiting for her explanation. "You would have to be allied with Katniss and Peeta, too. But no-one can know that, not even them, but you would have to look out for them and protect them."

At first, it was only dead silence that chased Artemisia's words. Winnow pinched the bridge of her nose, letting out a harsh breath. "_What?"_ she demanded.

Cato jumped up from his seat, pacing back and forth like a caged lion. "How could you even ask that of us?!" he shouted.

Artemisia motioned at them with her hands. "Please, just listen until I've told you all I know." she requested softly. Both raging teenagers stopped and looked at her expectantly. "There is a resistance. And they've made those two their figureheads… they've decided to break Katniss and Peeta out of the arena – at a certain point. If they're not alive, the resistance won't come. If you're not allied with them, you won't get out." Artemisia explained, her voice lowering to a mere whisper.

Cato's face scrunched up, his jaw working as he considered her words from every angle. "Let me get this straight… if we protect the people who killed us, we face certain death from the Capitol. But if we _kill_ the people who killed us, we'll be rewarded by the Capitol."

Artemisia shook her head and sighed. "Do you really think they'll reward you…? That they won't have you killed as soon as your back is turned?" she questioned in response.

Cato nodded slowly, accepting the scarlet-haired woman's logic. He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, looking to Winnow. She'd been quiet the whole time. "It's up to you, Winnow." he said.

"I don't want to make that decision." she responded quickly, not looking up from her hands clasped in her lap. Cato and Artemisia both looked to her in surprise. "_I_ don't have a family, Cato. _You_ do. If we go against the Capitol… your mother will be in danger," Winnow reminded him.

Cato's face went absolutely blank, his body tensing. The thought hadn't occurred to him. His mother hadn't occurred to him. He sank back, hand reaching out to Winnow. In that tremulous moment, they forgot their fight and she allowed his touch.

Artemisia spoke up after a few moments of silence. "I can get word to the others… they can try and get your mother to safety," she offered.

"Try's not a very certain word," Winnow said.

"It's all I have." Artemisia answers, honestly. "Listen, I understand if you refuse. Please just forget we had this conversation – or I…or I…" she trailed off, eyebrows furrowing and her eyes darkening in fear.

"There's no need for you to worry," Cato cut her off, turning to Winnow.

"Do you really think it's worth the risk?" Winnow asked him. He nodded resolutely. Winnow looked to Artemisia. "I guess we're in, then." Winnow remarked.

Artemisia smiled and held out a small box – one they had not noticed before. Cato accepted it and handed it straight to Winnow. She opened the box and found two gold bracelets inside. "It's too much of a risk for me to speak to Finnick again. Wear these, and Finnick will know what you've decided." she informed them.

Winnow glanced up. "Wait – you just said you could get word to them. If you can't risk speaking to Finnick, how do you propose to do that?" she questioned.

"Another rebel has made his presence known to me. He's a double-agent – and not nearly as sentimental as Finnick or I. If he thinks you're of no use to them, he'll cut you loose." Artemisia warned.

Winnow and Cato both looked troubled by her words. "So make sure to stay useful. Got it," Cato said finally.

Artemisia nodded. "Be sure not to wear those until the day of the Games." she added, pointing to the bracelets.

* * *

><p>The rest of the day had passed in an uncomfortable blur. Cato and Winnow had resumed watching past Hunger Games without a word to each other. And when it was late enough, they went to bed just as silently.<p>

Cato had fallen asleep in an instant – exhausted by the trials of the day. But Winnow lay awake for hours. She loved Cato, that she knew. She loved him so much that she had died rather than live without him.

But his words earlier that day – they echoed in her mind even now. Winnow had decided one thing all that time ago – before going into the Games. She would do what she had to – but she wouldn't be _cruel_. But being a 'monster'… that meant cruelty. And when Cato said as much, it told her that he _thought_ her cruel.

The fact that he thought himself no different meant nothing. How _easily_ had they spoken of killing earlier that day? Like it meant nothing, no more wrong than swatting a fly. Yes, Cato's words might have rang true. But they were not like Orchid. That was the comparison that rankled the most.

Orchid had tortured, betrayed, and took pleasure in all her cruelty. That was not something Winnow or Cato had taken part in. Yes, perhaps there had been an exhilarating moment during the Bloodbath – when adrenaline was running high and they didn't know what else to do – Cato and Winnow had shared a kill. And there had been a small, sick pleasure they had derived from it.

But did it really mean Winnow was a monster? That her rock, her pillar of strength – Cato – was one as well? She refused to believe it. She refused to believe they were any different than anyone else who had managed to escape the Hunger Games. No matter how it was accomplished.

His words changed nothing, not really. Winnow would not become soft and docile to shake such a moniker. And she wouldn't let Cato, either. They would succeed in these Games, one way or another.

They had to play their cards close to the chest – and be ready to switch sides if the rebellion failed. Winnow wouldn't lose her chance at a life with Cato – not for principles, not for morals or anything else. She had lost that slim chance once – and she would not let it happen again.

There was nothing, no-one – not even the goddamn Capitol – that would stop Winnow. She would be sure of it. And if Winnow had to be a monster to accomplish it, so be it.

* * *

><p><strong>Well, there were some mixed feelings about the last chapter. I see now that I have some hopeless romantics among my audience. All I can say is that if you didn't like last chapter, you won't like the next few.<strong>

**The way I see it, trouble tests their relationship and makes it stronger. I love some good fluff - but it doesn't fuel plot. And as y'all can see - I have a plot. Don't worry though, Cato/winnow shippers, they ARE end-game. **

**I do really love that you all told me what you really thought about it - and some of you know I sort of argued with you about it - but I was only trying to make you see it from my point of view.**

**Please keep up the good work y'all!**

_**Also: please expect a few weeks HIATUS.** I have not had time to write for several weeks and this is the last chapter I have complete. Once the semester comes to a close, I will be back at it. Never fear, I am determined to finish Cato and Winnow's story._


	5. Chapter 5

**The Pretender **by** Foo Fighters**

_I'm the voice inside your head_

_You refuse to hear_

_I'm the face that you have to face_

_Mirrored in your stare_

_I'm what's left, I'm what's right_

_I'm the enemy_

_I'm the hand that will take you down_

_Bring you to your knees_

**Chapter 5**

At some point, Winnow had fallen asleep. She judged by how tired she still felt that it could not have been too long ago. It was a sharp noise that had roused her from her dreamless sleep. Winnow scrunched her eyes up and willed herself to fall back to sleep.

But again, a noise disrupted her. In Winnow's state of half-awake, half-sleep, she pinpointed it as something like a cough. Resignedly, she opened her eyes to figure out what was disturbing her sleep.

Cato lay on his side in front of her, his back facing her. His torso was wracked with shivers as he made the noise again – but Winnow quickly realized he wasn't coughing. His hand was latched over his mouth, as if trying to keep himself quiet. He was _crying_.

Winnow sighed and closed the distance between the two of them. She wrapped her arms around him and rested her chin on his shoulder. He tensed in surprise. "What's wrong, Cato?" Winnow asked lowly.

He turned to look up at her, his stormy-grey eyes full of misery and regret. A tear leaked from his left eye. "You've been crying," she said, voice weakening for a moment. He didn't respond – merely closing his eyes, trying to hold back any tears he may have left. "Shhh, shhh," Winnow crooned, rubbing circles over his heart. "It's alright. Everything's going to be alright," she tried to assure him.

"How do you know that?" Cato croaked, his back bowing, pulling her closer with the movement.

"Because I've decided it has to be. And we will make it so." Winnow responded simply.

Cato looked back towards her with an incredulous expression – seeing there was no hint of untruth; only cold, hard determination. "I've already failed you once, what if I fail again?" he asked, turning his gaze back to the particular spot on the wall he'd been staring at for hours.

Winnow applied a painful pressure to Cato's shoulder, forcing his attention back to her. "The only way you could fail me is by giving up." she informed him, pale blue eyes burning into his. "I don't care if we have to be monsters, Cato. We will succeed, we will _live_," she continued harshly. Winnow's eyes held his forcefully, what with her hand on his chin to keep their gaze connected. "If you give up… you are not the man I fell in love with." she said cruelly as she pulled away from him, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

Silence followed Winnow's words and Cato's eyes widened in shock. He stayed still where he was; just as Winnow did, their backs to each other. "Are you giving up?" she asked in naught but a whisper. Cato didn't answer, his mind too full of shock and instant panic from her words. "Are you giving up?" Winnow repeated sharply.

Cato cleared his throat gruffly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed to sit up. "No." he said bluntly.

"Good." Winnow said, turning her head to look at him, a half-hearted smile meant rising to her lips, meant to encourage him. Cato stood and left the bedroom without a word, without looking at her.

* * *

><p>Cato had been distant all day – avoiding Winnow by sparring against other rivals and by simply ignoring her. It didn't surprise her. The things she said had been cruel, but necessary, she deemed. He couldn't go soft. Not now – they couldn't afford to now, if ever.<p>

It was a dangerous game they were playing, and Winnow needed Cato to be at full capacity to even have a chance. She understood that he was struggling – his long, painful death and losing her – that had not simply disappeared because they were alive now. Winnow had taken a risk by pushing Cato that way – her words could have motivated him to focus, to step up – or they could have sent him spiraling deeper into depression and hopelessness.

She wasn't entirely sure which reaction her words had inspired. Cato hadn't spoken more than two words to her since that conversation earlier that morning. Winnow could wait, yes, but it made her anxious to see the way the other rivals circled them now. It was as if they were sharks and they could taste blood spilled in the water.

Cato had no lack of sparring partners that day. He overpowered each one of them easily, but it didn't take a genius to tell he was tiring. But still he went on, dragging out each spar and using much more strength than necessary.

Winnow had found herself a companion as well, someone she considered to be rather like-minded to herself. Domitia Overwhill was Brutus' rival – and frighteningly similar to Clove. She was the precautionary tale of what happened to District Partners who made it to Final Two – once Domitia and Brutus had reached that status, she had tried to kill him the moment his back was turned. Unfortunately for Domitia, Brutus had managed to turn the tables on her.

"Your boy-" Domitia began in her low, raspy voice. "- is being quite stupid," she concluded, tapping a finger to her bottom lip thoughtfully. She was tall, taller than Winnow by only a few scant inches, and lean with long, auburn hair she commonly tied into a knot at the nape of her neck. Her full lips were pale, as if painted that way, and plenty of kohl had been smeared under each eye. That had been the style when she last lived, if Domitia was to be believed.

"I know." Winnow responded, resting the butt of her trident on the ground. She looked past Domitia towards Cato, who had finally taken a short respite. He sat on the edge of a sparring mat, chest rising and falling quite quickly as he tried to catch his breath.

"I hope he proves less stupid in the arena," Domitia said, quirking an eyebrow at the other girl. Domitia had a habit of speaking slowly and somewhat painfully – as if this language was not her first. But Winnow knew better; there hadn't been any other languages in Panem for at least a century. She suspected that Domitia only spoke that way because she thought that others would listen more carefully.

"You and me both." Winnow said at first. "I would appreciate if you stopped referring to him as stupid." she then said, tilting her trident ever so slightly in warning to the other young woman.

The subtle threat was not lost on Domitia, her lips pursed; making her lips color for just a moment from a suffusion of blood beneath the surface. "I would appreciate for you to stop making threats, Winnow. You are in no position of power here, neither is your boy. I suggest you start trying to make allies," Domitia warned in return.

"I have the only ally I need," Winnow hissed in response.

"Do you?" Domitia asked; thick, dark brows quirking up in question.

Their attention on one another was diverted by the trainers calling out that it was lunchtime. "Domitia… why don't you find someone else to demoralize?" Winnow suggested as she set her trident back on its designated rack.

"You're right… I do believe I'm done here," the taller girl said, slinging the knife in her hand at a nearby target. Winnow observed the knife reach its mark, then she turned away and headed to the cafeteria.

Once there, Winnow was handed a tray full of protein-packed foods and she found a seat at a table. She was half-surprised when Cato sat down across from her. Her surprise was lessened when she realized he did not intend to speak to her then, either. She toyed with her food, considering how she would approach him.

"Cato," Winnow said finally. He was nearly done with lunch – only a few scant bites left on his tray. He grunted in acknowledgment, but he didn't lift his eyes from the meal tray. "You are pushing yourself too hard. Everyone's noticed," she began.

Cato grunted again, dropping his fork onto the tray with a loud clatter. He started to get up, his hands clasping the tray. Winnow's hand darted out, wrapping around one of his wrists. Cato went rigid, his whole body freezing – still he refused to look at her. "Slow down," she requested pleadingly, releasing her grip on him as soon as the words left her mouth.

Cato's eyes lifted to meet hers for but a moment. But there was no agreement – absolutely nothing reflected in his eyes. He carried his tray to the garbage and headed back into the training center.

Winnow sighed heavily – returning her attention to her own tray of food for a brief moment. She found her appetite quite diminished after the lacking exchange with her partner. She stared down at the meal for another long minute before giving up, carrying her tray to the garbage. She returned to the training center discouraged.

Never the less, Winnow was careful to remain near Cato – as she saw he was pushing himself even harder now – against yet another rival. Winnow didn't know what else to do. Cato wouldn't speak to her, much less listen to her. So she stayed near, ready to step in and take care of him even if he was unwilling to take care of himself.

It was only a short time until Cato's exhaustion began to show. At first, lunch had seemed to reenergize him. But the fuel had quickly faded from his system, his movements slowing and weakening. Not too long after that, Cato was defeated in a spar for the first time – dropped to the mat by one of the trainers. Winnow saw that as no reason for alarm. Until he didn't get up.

Winnow's mind went into hyperdrive, rising to her feet the moment the trainer kneeled at Cato's side. The brawny man checked Cato over for but a moment before he motioned a Peacekeeper over. Winnow moved quickly towards them, catching a glimpse of Cato – his eyes rolled up in his head. "Take him to Dr. Yule," the trainer ordered the guard.

The Peacekeeper motioned to another for help supporting Cato's heavy form. "I will help bring him to the doctor," Winnow cut in boldly, kneeling at Cato's side. She brushed her fingers at the base of his throat, comforted by the strong thrum of his heartbeat beneath his hot, feverish skin.

"That is out of the question, tribute," the Peacekeeper barked.

"I will be sure nothing unpleasant befalls him. The Capitol and I share that interest in common," Winnow argued.

"She will start a riot here if she does not get her way," the trainer suggested lowly.

A grim smile curved Winnow's lips. "I may throw a fit, that is certain, good sirs. But what makes you think that any of these strangers would help me?" she questioned.

The Peacekeeper and trainer looked past Winnow – to see every single rival standing stock-still, eyes focused on the spectacle before them. "Help me," the guard muttered, roughly pulling at one of Cato's arms, conceding to Winnow's will.

Winnow did as told, wrapping Cato's other arm around her shoulders and hefting half his weight. She grunted, her muscles straining to get Cato upright. As she and the Peacekeeper began to move, Cato half-dragged between them, she spoke quietly. "Continue to handle him roughly and I will scream so loudly that President Snow himself will come down here and see what is going on," she threatened.

The Peacekeeper was silent for a long moment. "What makes you think it is I who would be in danger and not you?" he asked.

That same dangerous smile reappeared on her lips. "Because until the moment I enter that arena… my life is more important than yours." Winnow answered.

The Peacekeeper did not speak to her again. Instead he spoke to another white-clad guard, "Run and tell Dr. Yule we are coming. Bring us back a gurney,"

Winnow and the Peacekeeper continued to heave Cato's weight towards where Dr. Yule must be. It was several minutes before the second Peacekeeper returned, wheeling a gurney with a familiar white-coated woman at his side.

"Help them get Mr. Elestren on the gurney," The woman – Dr. Yule, Winnow presumed – ordered. She was short and slight, with chin-length silver hair, razor-sharp cheekbones, and startling gold eyes. The doctor held the gurney steady as the three heaved Cato onto the gurney. "You may return to your posts, Miss Fontanne and I can take it from here," Dr. Yule said nonchalantly, waving a hand at the two Peacekeepers in dismissal.

"Dr. Yule-" One of the Peacekeepers protested. Standing side by side, the two were utterly identical. Winnow could not tell which was the one she antagonized and which one she had planned to antagonize.

"Miss Fontanne cares only for the health of her partner. I think I can trust her to behave." Dr. Yule said, looking to Winnow with a strangely amused expression. "And, may I remind you, that it is _my_ decision." She said sharply, before a Peacekeeper could interject again.

The two Peacekeepers nodded slightly before turning on their heels and returning to their posts. Winnow looked down at Cato's unconscious form, her heart tightening. Her fingers curled around the bars of the gurney. "Aren't you supposed to be _treating_ Cato?" Winnow asked icily.

A half-hearted smile lifted the doctor's lips. "I was expecting one or both of you sooner or later. He is fine." Dr. Yule informed the teenager, taking hold of the other side of the gurney. She waved a hand at Winnow to signal her to start pushing the gurney.

"Oh, wouldn't you say you have to _look_ at your patient to determine that?" Winnow retorted. She was half-relieved to see Dr. Yule was the same woman who had administered the supplement shot to Winnow only yesterday. The same woman who had pleaded with Cato to be sensible as they had guns to their heads. But at the same time, the fact that Dr. Yule hadn't given Cato more than a precursory glance grated on Winnow's nerves.

Dr. Yule's forehead creased and she frowned, paused, turning to check Cato over. She took his pulse and then measured his respirations. "Exhaustion. As I thought." She said curtly. She sighed again, raising her eyes to meet Winnow's. "This was something I expected, Miss Fontanne. We will talk once we reach my lab, and then we will talk even more once Cato wakes." Dr. Yule said softly.

"You expected this to happen?" Winnow asked, her mind reeling with the sudden information.

Dr. Yule frowned, her thin lips pressing into an even thinner line. "Yes. We will talk in the privacy of my office or not at all," she warned the teenager, her golden eyes flashing to a camera panel in the ceiling. Winnow followed her perspective and saw the camera there – the motor inside turning to monitor them. She grimaced and gave a short nod. With that, the women recommenced rolling the gurney down the blindingly white hallway.

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><p><strong>Okay, I wasn't planning on posting this chapter yet. But I busted it out because of the glowing review from ghwitch15. Ghwitch15, thank you so very much - this one is for you. <strong>

**I also want to thank my other reviewers- I appreciate you all sticking with me. I mention ghwitch15 now, because of the quality of her review. She truly got what I was trying to tell you all through this trilogy. And for those of you who hate this chapter - and I know, it's a heavy one - I ask you to think of how this chapter affects the story in the future, how it affects Winnow and Cato's relationship.**

**Please Review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Black Widow **by** Iggy Azalea Ft. Rita Ora**

_I'm gonna love ya_

_ Until you hate me_

_And I'm gonna show ya_

_What's really crazy_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

Winnow perched in a seat next to Cato. He had not woken yet, but Dr. Yule had been quick to assure the dark-haired girl that he would not be out for long. The silver-haired woman had swiftly administered an IV of fluids into Cato's system – so that he would recover quicker from his exhaustion, she'd said.

"Why did you say you expected this to happen?" Winnow asked bluntly. She didn't want to mince words with this woman – not when Cato was unconscious and helpless before her.

Dr. Yule didn't seem affronted or at all surprised by it, so Winnow assumed her words had been deemed acceptable. "The supplement you and Cato have been receiving is a steroid cocktail of my own creation. And it is working as intended – better than I could have ever thought." the woman began uncertainly, choosing her words carefully.

Winnow entwined her fingers with Cato's limp hand. "I don't understand," she said softly.

Dr. Yule's expression softened at the look of confusion on the teenager's face. "Do you know what steroids are used for, Winnow?" she asked.

"Yes, they make people stronger." Winnow answered with a nod.

"That's right. But their effectiveness runs out, because they can be detrimental to the subject's health after a certain amount of time." Dr. Yule explained honestly.

Winnow's eyebrows rose and her face paling dramatically. "Detrimental how?" she demanded.

Dr. Yule settled into a seat opposite her. "The supplement…it made your strength grow very swiftly. As intended. But as much as your strength grows, your endurance weakens." the doctor seemed to be searching for the right words.

Winnow sighed, leaning back in her chair. "So when Cato overexerted himself today…"

"Yes." Dr. Yule confirmed.

The dark-haired girl's brows furrowed and her expression turned grim. "If you knew this would happen, then why did you give it to us?" Winnow questioned.

Dr. Yule sighed and rubbed her forehead tiredly. "That is not so easy to answer," she murmured.

"I'd like to hear anyway," Winnow insisted.

The older woman heaved a greater sigh. "I administered the supplement because it was ordered of me." Dr. Yule answered.

"By who?"

"President Snow and Plutarch Heavensbee." the silver-haired woman answered honestly.

"Why?"

"That I don't know." Dr. Yule confessed. Winnow looked at her in disbelief, but the doctor shook her head. "I really don't," she added to convince the teenager. A sharp electronic beep punctuated the following silence, making the doctor's head spin to read the display behind her.

The sudden anxiety smoothed from the doctor's face and she turned to look at Winnow. "He's waking. I'll give you two a moment," the older woman said as she rose from her seat.

Winnow didn't acknowledge the doctor's words as her eyes fixed themselves on Cato's face. He shifted restlessly now, only moments from waking. All the rage, all the worry and hurt drained from Winnow as she saw his eyes open.

Those stormy-grey eyes were hazy now, as he tried to get his bearings. "Winnie?" he uttered in confusion. Winnow gripped his hand harder in her hands, ducking forward to press her lips against his knuckles. "What happened?" he asked, seeming surprised by her affection.

"You collapsed in training. You were pushing yourself too hard," Winnow answered, a small smile curving her lips when he gripped her hands back. He lifted his head towards her and waited for Winnow to complete the movement. She leaned forwards and kissed him gently, her lips spreading wider in a smile as he responded to her kiss.

Cato whined softly when Winnow drew away, a wide grin on her lips. "I suppose this is the part where you tell me 'I told you so'." he said with a pout.

"No." Winnow retorted quickly.

"No?!" Cato repeated in surprise.

Winnow nodded, easing her fingers from his as she reached forward to comb through his blond hair. "This is the part where I tell you how relieved I am to see you open your eyes and how happy I am to have you kiss me," she whispered to him, lips a mere breath from his.

Cato's harsh grey eyes softened, and he lifted his chin in order to close the minuscule distance between them. Their lips moved together for several long moments – her hands in his hair, his hands tracing along her arms, running his fingers over the sharp points of her elbows.

There was a loud cough at the door, the two teenagers springing apart in surprise to see Dr. Yule at the door. "Who are you?" Cato questioned, eyes raking over the woman suspiciously.

"I am Dr. Yule, though you two may call me Theta." She offered, leaning against the doorframe.

Cato turned away from her, looking to Winnow for her assessment of the individual. His lover nodded encouragingly. "So what happened to me, doc?" Cato asked her, turning to face the doctor again.

Dr. Yule approached, sitting down beside Winnow carefully, slowly. "As Miss Fontanne likely told you, you fainted from exhaustion." she began, waiting for a sign to proceed. Cato nodded. "And it was caused by the supplement you and all the rivals have been taking,"

At those words, Cato looked positively enraged. Winnow wondered if that was the reason the doctor had chosen to sit next to her – so that Cato would have had to get past her to reach Dr. Yule. "She is ordered by President Snow to give us these…drugs," Winnow said softly, diverting Cato's attention from the doctor to her.

He settled back against the bed, closing his eyes tightly. "Let me guess," he began, with a strained voice. "Your supplement makes us stronger quicker, but if we push ourselves…we collapse," Cato suggested.

Dr. Yule nodded. "Correct," she confirmed, her gold eyes wary.

"Then we will no longer take them," Cato said.

"It isn't that easy, Cato." Winnow interjected, shaking her head.

Cato glared at the dark-haired girl, but his sour gaze quickly turned to the doctor once she began to speak. "I'm sorry, but the order comes down from President Snow himself. As much as I disagree with it, I cannot go against it," Theta said genuinely. Her eyes lit with a careful sort of mischief, making the two teenagers wary. "But once you are in the arena… it is impossible to force you to take the supplement. Until then… I encourage you to not overexert yourselves. The supplement will make you stronger, but that power does not last long. Cato found this out today, didn't you?"

Cato nodded weakly, feeling more confused now than before. "How long will it take for the drug to leave our systems after we've stopped taking it?" Winnow asked.

"A few weeks. A month, at most," Dr. Yule answered as she stood.

"Can we go?" Cato questioned as he sat up. Winnow's arm shot up to support him, even though he seemed steady enough.

"When you feel ready," the doctor answered with a dip of her head, golden eyes shifting from Cato to Winnow, before she left the room.

"Let's go," Cato said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

Winnow jumped up from her seat, blocking Cato from getting up. "Are you sure you're alright, Cato?" she asked him. He swung his head up to look at her, face fixed in annoyance until he saw the genuine worry in her eyes.

Cato stood effortlessly and then drew Winnow in his arms. "I'm sorry for worrying you," he said, brushing dark hair from her shoulder in order to press a kiss against her jaw.

She didn't look reassured – merely uncertain and worried, so unlike the Winnow he knew. Pale and frowning, his Winnow looked far younger than she was. "I'm sorry for being so cruel," she whispered in return, closing her eyes and resting her forehead against his shoulder.

Cato's arms tightened around her and he sighed, his hot breath tickling her ear. "It's alright. Let's just get back to our rooms," he told her, squeezing her one more time before pulling away. Winnow nodded after a moment and they returned to their rooms in silence, their hands entwined.

It wasn't until they settled in their rooms that Winnow spoke again. Cato lay on the bed, hands folded beneath his head while Winnie sat on the bed's edge. "All those things I said earlier…" she began.

"Don't worry about it, Winnie," Cato tried to dismiss the conversation. He didn't particularly want to discuss her stinging words from that morning.

"No, no, I need to tell you!" Winnow insisted, turning to look at him.

After a long moment, Cato nodded. "I'm listening." he said.

Winnow seemed almost surprised – she bit her lip and thought carefully before speaking. "…I suppose I was frightened." she told him.

Cato's head pivoted in her direction sharply. "Why?" he asked in surprise.

Winnow held his gaze, lifting her chin high. "Because the only reason I've been so sure we'll survive this time is because you're beside me." she admitted. After that, Winnow's quiet for a long time and Cato is at a loss for words. "I was terrified you were giving up. And if _you_ did… what was the point of me even trying?"

"Winnow," Cato tried to interject, but she merely shook her head. So he scooted closer to her, pulling her into the circle of his arms.

"I can't do this without you, Cato. There's no point. All we stand to gain is meaningless without you," Winnow continued on. He slanted his lips over hers, kissing her hard in hopes of silencing her. She let him distract her for a few moments before she pulled away, leaning her forehead against his. "I've already told you that living without you isn't an option."

Those words make Cato feel like weeping. Yes, he had heard them spoken before, but he never wanted to hear them again. He supposed most people would regard those words as the ultimate admittance of love – but Cato? Cato would die a thousand times in order to give Winnow the life she wanted, the life she deserved. The fact that she would do the same didn't make him feel any better.

"You won't have to, I promise," he swore to her and felt her arms tighten around him like little iron bands. Cato knew right then and there that he would do anything and everything to give Winnow her wish.

* * *

><p><strong>Alright, for my hopeless romantics out there! I hope this satisfies you! And... the next chapters are going to be similar. I got a really great crop of reviews last chapter and I'm very thankful. <em>Oh, and chapter 7 will follow shortly since it's really short.<em>**

**Thank you everyone! I look forward to hearing your thoughts on this chapter! Please review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Love Runs Out** by **ONEREPUBLIC**

_I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt,_

_'til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out_

_I got my mind made up, man, I can't let go_

_I'm killing every second 'til it saves my soul_

_I'll be running, I'll be running,_

_'til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out_

_And we'll start a fire, and we'll shut it down,_

_'til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out_

**Chapter 7**

"So why did you ignore me all day?" Winnow asked suddenly. The pair had been laying in each other's arms – in silence – for at least half an hour before she had spoken.

"I needed to think. Sometimes, when I'm with you… I can't think about anything about you," Cato answered for a long moment.

Winnow turned to face him, her expression uncertain. "The way you treated me… I was unsure where we stood." she admitted. The thought was especially painful for Winnow because her love has never been unrequited.

Cato looked appalled at her words. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I love you _so _much, Winnie – and sometimes when I'm thinking about you, everything else goes away. And I needed to think."

"What did you need to think about?" she asked softly.

"You." he answered immediately.

Winnow glared at him, though she looked more confused than angry. "So… you can only think of me when you're with me, so you ignored me all day to think about… _me_." she suggested in bewilderment.

"It sounds bad when you say it like that," Cato scoffed, his expression crinkling in distaste.

"Tell me what you were thinking about!" Winnow cajoled him, wrapping her arms around one of his.

Cato didn't answer at first. In fact, he was quiet for a long time. "Are we engaged?" he asked suddenly. Winnow's jaw dropped open and her eyes went wide with shock. "I see I need to explain further," Cato said, trying to consider how to explain.

"I wasn't expecting that," Winnow interjected, her brows furrowed low.

"What do you mean?" Cato asked curiously.

"I thought you were angry with me. For what I said…" Winnow answered reluctantly.

Cato sighed. "I was, at first. But I just kept thinking and that went away. And somehow I got to thinking about if we were engaged or not," he admitted. She tilted her head at him in question, prompting him to explain. "Do you remember when I put the ring on your finger… the night before you died?" he asked her. Winnow nodded, comprehension slowly dawning on her as to what he was thinking. "You didn't say anything when I gave it to you. You didn't refuse. But I didn't really ask either,"

Winnow's gaze lowers to her left hand, resting on Cato's shoulder. Her heart ached to see it bare. "So you're asking if we're engaged because of that?" she asked. Cato nodded, his eyes strangely open, innocent and hopeful. "Do you want to be?" Winnow questioned.

A half-smile rose on Cato's lips. "Maybe. Do you?" he said in response.

"Maybe." Winnow answered tritely. Cato glared at her – trying to be angry with her, but he failed as he always did. He kissed her soundly, until there was no breath left in her body and no thoughts in her head. "I suppose we are, then." Winnow said after panting for a few moments, and Cato kissed her again, lowering her to the bed and pressing his body to hers.

Then Cato's eyes fixed on her bare finger, and it was his turn to look strangely heartbroken. "I only wish we had my mother's ring back," he said sadly.

"Ask Artemisia," Winnow suggested. "Maybe she can find it,"

Cato looked more hopeful at that. "When do you want to get married?" he whispered into her ear as he dragged her closer.

Winnow doesn't answer for a few moments, her hand resting lightly on his. "Before we go back into the arena," she answered resolutely.

"So soon?" Cato asked in surprise, nipping her ear playfully.

Winnow shrugged. "There's only two more months before we go back in. We don't know for sure that we'll come back out,"

Cato didn't respond at first. "I don't want you to think like that." he said.

Winnow turned in his arms, pressing her face into his chest. "We have no guarantees, Cato. We have a slim chance…" her voice is muffled by his shirt.

"So we should live our life to the fullest," Cato finished her sentence. Winnow nodded. "Alright. We'll get married before the Games. Just another thing to talk to Artemisia about, I guess." He said, his hands beginning to wander.

Winnow shot up, startled, when his hands wandered below her waist. "Winnie, c'mon," Cato whined, reaching to pull her back to him.

Winnow began to sink back beside him, when a thought struck her. She extricated herself from Cato's grip, moving to slide off the bed. He looked up to see a rather devilish look in her eyes and groaned. "If you're feeling well enough to do _that_, I think you're well enough to go back to training," Winnow suggested.

"No, Winnie, I think we should celebrate our engagement," Cato insisted, flopping back onto the bed in a childish fit.

Winnow leaned over him, fingers lightly brushing the hair from his eyes. "Tonight, I _promise_." she said softly, catching Cato's interest. "Do you remember when we swam across the creek on our way to trap Thresh?" she asked.

Cato's eyes rolled at the very sound of the boy's name. "Of course." he answered irritably, wondering just what she was planning.

"Well, I thought I could teach you to swim," Winnow suggested. Cato's head snapped to face her, his interest piqued. "Just you and me, a nice, heated pool; half-naked, in the water. We could train _and_ play," she said lowly.

"You had me at 'half-naked'," Cato grumbled, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and following Winnow out the door.

* * *

><p><strong>Well, the reviews from last chapter were disappointing. Where did everyone go? ;(<strong>

**Nah, it's okay. It's a busy time of year, it's finals week for me (Eek!)**

**Next chapter's gonna be dramatic and mushy, and almost complete! Please Review and I'll get the next chapter up sooner!**


	8. Chapter 8

**It's About Time **by **Young the Giant**

_All the kids are throwing sticks_

_Politics!_

_Nights on the wire!_

_Everybody wants to get by_

_It's a test of the times!_

_A test of my rights_

_It's on pretty lady_

_Born to be angry_

_Grip of the vice_

_Click on the trigger, girl_

**Chapter 8**

It was as Artemisia was giving Winnow a haircut that they told her what they wanted. The sharp pair of scissors slipped from her fingers and fell onto the floor with a loud clatter. "You want to _what?!_"

"We would like to get married," Cato repeated dryly from across the room. His hair had already been cut – Artemisia had shorn the hair on the sides and left the top long. Only half of Winnow's hair had been chopped off. It was still damp from Cato's first swimming lesson.

It took Artemisia a moment to recover from the bomb that had been dropped on her. "Are you…sure? You're _so_ young. You're only 18," she says, picking up the scissors and resumed cutting Winnow's hair.

"19, technically," Winnow pointed out. "And what's the point of waiting? There's no guarantee we'll survive. We didn't the first time,"

Artemisia looked to Cato and found his expression much the same as Winnow's – determined. "You're sure?" she asked again. Cato nodded this time.

"We just want a chance. A chance to be normal – as normal as possible, really, considering our situation. We want to be married for a little while, before we risk our lives again." Cato explained.

Artemisia stared at the blond for a long moment before turning back to Winnow's hair. She doesn't answer until she makes the final snip of Winnow's hair. Both Winnow and Cato watched her carefully. Artemisia set her scissors down carefully, deliberately, and sighed. "I will speak with Heavensbee to see if it is possible." she said.

Winnow caught Artemisia's hand before the woman left. "Thank you," she said genuinely.

Artemisia smiled half-heartedly. "They've taken so much from you and still want more… I think it's time they give a little." she said, brushing Winnow's cheek with a finger. "For my masterpiece… anything." Artemisia said softly before turning towards Cato.

"As for you, young man..." she started sternly, taking him by surprise – his eyebrows jumping up. "The only reason I am not addressing what happened this morning in training is because I have faith that Winnow already did," Artemisia said, looking back to see Winnow nod in agreement. "But I will tell you this – out of concern for you both – you both must control your temper and control your strength! I will not have this happen to you in the arena – do you think the others will give you time to recover! Ha!" Artemisia ranted, shaking a finger at both her charges before she left the room muttering under her breath.

Cato and Winnow shared a look of amusement with one another at their mother hen's lecturing. Winnow spun the chair around and stood, brushing stray hairs from her shoulders as she approached her fiancé. Cato looked up at her from his seat on the couch, his eyes dipping to her drastically shortened locks. "What do you think?" she asked, tucking a strand behind her ear.

Cato smiled at her, sitting up straight. He gestured for her to come closer, and when she did, he rested his hands on her hips. "You look beautiful. As you always do." he answered her.

Winnow raised an eyebrow at him, smoothing a hand across the shorn side of his head. "Was I still beautiful when I was bruised, bloody and broken after we killed Thresh?" she asked.

A pained expression crossed Cato's face and it took him a moment to answer. When she said those words, it wasn't an image of Winnow's features after crossing Thresh that appeared in his mind. It was of her dead – limp and glassy-eyed on the lake's rocky shore. "I never thought of it. It hurts me to see you hurt. But – it isn't as if I love you for your appearance. It might be what drew us together in the beginning," he attempted to explain.

Winnow looked down at him, her brows furrowed and looking forlorn and surprised. Cato shook his head and pulled her closer, resting his head against her belly. "That didn't come out right." He said, voice muffled against the cloth. Winnow's hands hung at her sides. "Your beauty is not the reason I want to marry you so badly," he said.

Winnow moved to cradle his head against her, looking down to him. "Then why _do _you want to marry me?" she asked.

Cato tilted his head back and looked up at her. "It's hard to describe." he begins and Winnow nodded in understanding – she felt the same way. "You're my partner," he said simply, searching for the right words. "I feel… incomplete without you."

Winnow tilted her head to the side, showing she didn't quite comprehend his words. It was difficult for Cato to maintain eye contact with her – and his gaze kept flickering away. "You might not understand," he said, wetting his lips with his tongue.

"I'll try," she responded before he could explain.

Cato nodded, feeling a small comfort from those two words. "When you… died, I felt so _empty_," the word surprised him, and Winnow's expression turned knowing. "I suppose you do understand," he remarked, interrupting his own line of thought.

Winnow dipped her head in agreement. "I'm listening." She said, prompting him back to his thought.

"I couldn't stand the feeling. Couldn't stand the thought of surviving and having to live without you." Winnow understood keenly – he was echoing the words she had said to him the morning before her unfortunate demise. "I wanted to die." Cato said suddenly, surprising Winnow.

"Cato…" she whispered. He shook his head.

"The only thing I wanted more was to kill Katniss." Cato added. Winnow nodded in agreement. She pushed back at him a little – and at first he thought she was pulling away from him – and seemed frighteningly resigned to it – flopping his back against the couch.

But then Winnow climbed into his lap, and he looped his arms around her tightly, pressing his forehead against hers. Winnow pecked him on the lips lightly. "So I'm your partner," she said, hoping to lead him away from the more depressing thought.

"Until you become my wife," Cato pointed out, a small smile curving his lips for but a moment.

"Is there really such a difference between the two?" Winnow asked.

Cato shrugged. "There's more meaning to 'wife', I think. Clove was my partner. I didn't love nor trust her as I do you."

She pecked him on the lips again. "Do keep telling me how much you love me." Winnow teased.

Cato adopted a faux angry expression for but a moment, before it turned silly. "I think it's your turn, Miss Fontanne."

"I told you those very words in the arena – in front of millions of people," Winnow pointed out.

Cato shrugged. "All the same, I would like to hear them again,"

Winnow rolled her eyes and made herself comfortable in his lap. Cato groaned from the friction of her bottom rubbing against him. "I _love_ you, Cato. You are the brains to my brawn and vice versa. I could not imagine you or I being better suited for anyone else in the world," she told him.

A brilliant grin stole over Cato's features. "Even… Glimmer?" Cato suggested. Winnow's eyes went wide with surprise though it quickly turned into a glare.

"She's dead!" Winnow protested.

"So were we." Cato pointed out.

Winnow pouted. "_Anyone_ who tried to take you from me – man or woman-" Cato wrinkled his nose at the suggestion. "- I would kill them." Winnow finished.

"I will take that as an enthusiastic 'I love you'."

"You should. Because you're _mine_." Winnow said, kissing him hard.

"I'm yours," Cato repeated with a nod. "And you are mine, too." he adds as if it were a fact.

Winnow nodded at him without smiling. It was a fact.

!

Cato and Winnow knew that Artemisia had either really come through for them or really screwed them over when they returned to their rooms that day and found Plutarch Heavensbee sitting at their kitchen table. He was smiling that terrible shark smile that Artemisia had spoken of, so they were not sure which it was.

"Miss Fontanne, Mr. Elestren," Heavensbee crooned as he stood in one fluid movement. "Congratulations on your engagement," he said pleasantly enough.

Winnow's hand sought Cato's, and his closed around hers firmly. "Head Gamemaker Heavensbee," she said in surprise. "We didn't expect to see you,"

"Of course," the older man said smoothly. "Miss Artemisia brought it to my attention that you wished to be married before the games began,"

"Yes, that was our hope," Cato answered guardedly.

"I would love to give you permission to do so, but I'm afraid it's not in my power." Heavensbee told them.

"Then in whose power is it?" Winnow questioned rather coldly.

That shark smile again lit Plutarch's lips. "President Snow's," he answered. The older man seemed pleased by the stricken look on their faces. "I, of course, will advocate for you, but I will need a reason, something to convince the President," Heavensbee continued.

"Is young love not reason enough?" Cato wondered.

"You two are alive simply because the President did not like young love last year," the older man retorted masterfully.

Cato exhaled angrily, and Winnow thought quickly, running a hand over her face. "President Snow needs a reason, I'll give him one," she hissed to Cato lowly. Winnow turned to the Head Games-maker, taking a deep breath. "If you and President Snow want a good show in that arena, I think we deserve a little something for it," she said.

Plutarch's eyebrows rose. "Excuse me?" he questioned, plump lips pursing.

Cato's eyes were wide with alarm and his hand gripped Winnow's tightly. He seemed ready to flee. Winnow closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she answered. "It's no secret the Games are nothing but sport to Capitolians. And you want to give them the best, the most dramatic Games ever, yes?" Winnow asked in response.

Plutarch nodded slowly, his lips settling into that dangerous grin again. "And you think you have something to contribute to that?" he prompted.

Winnow rolled her eyes, her lips pressing into a thin line. "If we didn't, we wouldn't be here right now," she tossed back, the pressure on her hand increasing as Cato's nervousness rose.

"Winnow!" her fiancé hissed warningly.

She ignored Cato, keeping her gaze on the older man. "You know Cato and I have the most skill, and the most to work with in order to make these Games exciting. Give us what we want – and it's a very little thing, mind you, and you'll get what you want." Winnow demanded boldly.

Her words were a gamble, that she knew. So did Cato, by the painful grip he had on her. Yet he hadn't stopped her. Instead their eyes were fixed on Plutarch Heavensbee. He stood without a word, straightening his blazer, and took a step toward them. Both teenagers tensed immediately in response.

Plutarch was still smiling, though it seemed milder now, but Winnow was unsure whether it was a good sign or not. If he dismissed them entirely, or he agreed. But then he looked up at her and his lips lifted wider, revealing his teeth and resuming his shark-like smile, sending a chill down Winnow's spine.

"I think you'll soon find yourself choking on those sharp words of yours, Miss Fontanne. I'd be careful if I were you – as you know well by now, your fiancé's life is tied to yours." Plutarch cautioned her.

Winnow reeled back towards Cato as if the older man had struck her, her face creasing in pain and a rush of shame. Plutarch's smile only widened at the sight of it, and he whistled a cheery tune as he left the teenagers to their own thoughts.

Winnow and Cato didn't move for several long moments, merely trying to absorb what had just happened to them. "Winnow," Cato breathed, his hand loosening its grip on hers. She tilted her head up towards him in question. "Maybe it's best if I do the talking on behalf of us for a little while," he suggested – not in anger, but fear. Winnow agreed without much consideration, still dazed from her showdown with the Head Gamemaker.

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><p><strong>In celebration of my finals being over... a new chapter early! And I hope it blows you away !<strong>

**Next chapter's Gonne be the same, well, sort of energy. Look forward to seeing your reviews!**

**And thanks again for being loyal, lovely readers!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Seven Nation Army **by** The White Stripes**

_A seven nation army couldn't hold me back_

_They're gonna rip it off_

_Taking their time right behind my back_

_And I'm talkin' to myself at night_

_Because I can't forget_

_Back and forth through my mind_

_Behind a cigarette_

**Chapter 9**

Cato still lay in bed, arms pillowed under his head, refusing to get up and get ready for the day. Winnow huffed at his stubbornness as she shimmied into the skin-tight garments they wore for training. It was so different from the Cato she knew back in the Games, he who had always been up and about before she had even woken. "So-"

"-Let me guess, you have a plan for training this morning," Cato cut her off, shifting his head to look upon her with a mixture of annoyance and fondness. Of course, he'd already known that she'd be formulating a plan of attack. Winnow would have made a good mentor, if she had made it out of the Games alive.

"Perhaps," Winnow responded, her mouth twitching with amusement. "Have I really become so predictable?"

Cato grinned up at her. "Only to me, love, only to me." He said, making an exaggerated motion with his arm, gesturing for her to continue. "By all means, Winnie, let's hear it…"

"I don't much like your tone, Cato," Winnow pouted dramatically. Cato loved the way she said his name. She didn't say it the way she had in the beginning – now Winnow _sighed_ his name, something he was sure she had no idea she did. It never changed, not when they were alone or in front of others – something Cato felt confirmed her love for him subconsciously. He had no desire for her to say anything _but_ his name.

Now, his pet name for her, Winnie, was something Winnow had grown fond of – though she'd never admit it. It was for him and him alone – just another small measure that made Cato love her more. Once, a trainer had heard Cato say it and had repeated it to Winnow – he had quickly found himself on the ground and pinned with a furious glare. Not only was the pet name only for Cato, he found it was especially well-received when they were alone in their rooms, when he breathed it against her skin as they moved together, bodies entwined.

"Cato, would you pay attention!" Winnow said in irritation, smacking her fiancé on the arm half-heartedly to get his attention. Cato snapped from his thoughts, fixing a gooey grin on his lips for her.

"I'm listening," he promised her.

Winnow looked at him for a long moment, ensuring she really did have Cato's attention. Then she sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed to look at him more easily. "After yesterday, I think we need to show them – once and for all, that we are not to be trifled with,"

Cato sat up, his grey eyes sharpening in interest. "And how do you suggest we do that?" he asked.

A smile spread across her lips at his reaction. "We will spar. At first, just you and I. But we will show each other no mercy. There will be no weakening our blows out of concern for one another. No, if you see a chance to take me down, I want you to take it. And I will do the same." Winnow began to explain.

"And if they see that's how we treat each other…" Cato caught on, eyes sparking with anticipation.

"…then they will know how merciless we will be to them," Winnow finished, her smile widening for how her fiancée understood her so quickly. "Later, we can spar others. Defeat them as quickly as possible, using as little effort as possible," she paused, eyeing Cato carefully. "So they see how little it would take us, how little it would tax us, to dismantle them completely."

Cato surged forward, gripping Winnow by the hip and tugging her towards him for a rough, passionate kiss. "I love it when you're vengeful," he growled, resting his forehead against hers once their kiss had broken.

The mischief, or it may be better named deviousness – only sharpened, increased, in Winnow's pale eyes. "Then think of it as foreplay… for later," she hinted teasingly.

Cato's brows drew together and a sharp groan escaped his lips. "You will kill me one day, Winnie, with that mouth of yours," he complained half-heartedly.

Winnow grinned, her lips but a breath away from his. "Yes, maybe – but what a way to go, eh?" she murmured, lips brushing across his before she drew away. Cato groaned again, this time in childish disappointment. "Get ready," Winnow ordered without looking back at him, disappearing into the bathroom.

Cato pouted as he rolled out of bed and searched for his training clothes. Instead of being scattered over the floor like he'd left them, they were in the dresser – freshly laundered and folded. He didn't know when the Avoxes managed to get in and clean, but he was always grateful that they had.

After dressing, he joined Winnow in the bathroom. She stood in front of the mirror, lining her eyes thickly with dark kohl as Cato splashed cold water on his face and wiped it dry. The contrast of dark lines made the blue of her eyes so much more piercing. Winnow hadn't bothered before to apply any make-up since their resurrection, so Cato questioned her motives at doing so now.

The puzzlement in his gaze must have been absurdly clear, because Winnow spoke without looking at him. "I want them to fear us," she explained softly. "And as much as I hate the mere concept… appearance does contribute to how people see one another,"

"And we should take advantage of that," Cato concluded. Winnow nodded as she set down the pot of kohl and fastened the lid on it. Then she picked up a tube of what looked to be blood-red lipstick. Cato watched with interest as Winnow painted her lips, his tongue sliding across his own lips absently. "So what would you have me do to help?" he asked finally, once she set down the lipstick.

Winnow turned to regard him, her gaze cool and calculating as she looked him up and down. The intense quality of her eyes on him took Cato's breath for a moment. "Spike your hair as you used to. Before the Games, do you remember?" she suggested and Cato nodded as answer. "Other than that, you are fine. You and I both know how to be imposing," Winnow added, waving her hand.

"Is there wax I can use?" Cato questioned, smoothing his hands through his hair as way of initially combing it. Winnow hummed in response, opening a drawer filled to the brim with beauty products and rifling through carelessly. She drew a clear pot from the drawer and slid it towards him. Then she swept the products she'd been using into the drawer without care for all the clinking glass bottles.

Winnow looked at herself in the mirror critically, hands reaching up to grasp at the ends of her now chin-length hair thoughtfully. "What is it?" Cato asked, dipping his fingers into the hair wax and winding them into his hair to style it carefully.

"I'm just thinking. If I leave my hair down, when we spar it will surely stick to my lips because of the lipstick and become a nuisance," she explained ponderingly.

"Ah. And you cut your hair to keep it out of your way," Cato concluded, his eyes focused on his reflection in the mirror.

Winnow huffed, opening the drawer and withdrawing a few tiny rubber-bands and pins. "Yes, but I don't plan to wear lipstick into the arena," she argued, beginning to twist back her hair tightly across her head.

"So this show is only for the rivals?" Cato asked curiously.

Winnow nodded, securing the twist at the back of her head with a few pins and then gathered the last few wispy pieces in a rubber band to result in a tiny pigtail at the base of her head. "I foresee no issue with inspiring fear in Fire-Bitch and Lover Boy in the arena. I believe merely being alive will do the trick," she explained.

"I agree," Cato nodded, spreading a bit more wax on his fingers to finish off his hair before he washed his hands in the sink. Winnow carefully prodded at her hair, assuring it would hold with a few more pins. "But your hair, Winnie, is _cute_, not at all imposing," he teased her.

Winnow turned to him with a glare, slapping his arm half-heartedly. "You're an idiot," she hissed at him, her eyes still filled with love as well as fire.

Cato chuckled, taking hold of her waist and drawing her close to him. "Well, you've chosen to become engaged to this _idiot_, so I don't think you mind too much,"

The dark-haired young woman could not help but laugh, twining her arms around his neck to draw him closer still. "Idiot or not, I love you so," Winnow admitted softly. Cato pressed his forehead to hers, his lips curving up.

"As I love you." he responded before lowering his lips to hers. The kiss was brief – cut short by distant knocking on the door outside their room. A low whine of protest escaped Winnow's mouth as they separated. Cato's face split wide with a grin at the noise. "As you said, today's_ foreplay,_" he reminded his fiancée.

Winnow held onto his hands, leading him from the bathroom and in the direction of the insistent knocking. "But it's _so_ long to wait," she groaned.

"So now you feel my pain," Cato grinned, entwining his fingers with hers as they left the bedroom and headed for the outside door, the one which the Peacekeepers were likely ready to knock down. Winnow laughed – not just at his words, but also for the constant knocking coming from the door.

She reached for the door first, swinging it open haphazardly so that it nearly collided with a Peacekeeper's helmet – stopped only by his fist raised to knock again. "Oops," Winnow cooed in a sickly sweet tone. "Wouldn't want the door to crack that pretty helmet," she continued, raising her free hand to her mouth as Cato smirked at her side.

The Peacekeeper said nothing, did nothing – at first. Then an audible sigh escaped him, and his fist fell down to his side. "Report to training, Tributes." The Peacekeeper said in a wearied tone, as if he was already tired of dealing with them. Winnow wondered if he'd been with them their whole stay here and they'd never known – what with their uniform and helmets, they were identical and unidentifiable.

"As you wish sir," Cato said, dramatically bowing low before Winnow tugged on his hand to start towards the Training Center.

The Peacekeeper trailed behind them by just a step or two, hands by his sides. Not once did either hand drift towards his weapon, so Winnow decided she liked him the best. He walked in a casual sort of swagger, with just the slightest limp to his right leg. Winnow figured she could pick him out again if needed.

Before they entered the Training Center, Cato felt her tighten her grip on his fingers. He looked down at her expectantly. "Ready?" he asked. Winnow pursed her lips and nodded after a long moment. "They won't know what's hit them." Cato added softer, squeezing her hand in return.

Winnow nodded more firmly this time, looking straight ahead. The determination and fire was back in her eyes as she led him through the doors to the Training Center.

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><p><strong>Alright, I'm so very sorry for the long wait! I got sort of lost in Writer's Block-land, but I'm trying to fight my way out now. This is actually only half-way through the Chapter 9 I had planned, but this seemed a suitable stopping point and you have all been waiting so long! <strong>

**Again, I would like to thank everyone for their continued loyalty as well as my new readers!**

**To address a few reviews from the last chapter: **

**Sabie0521: Well, I think of Plutarch as not needing Winnow and Cato as much as he needed Katniss and Peeta, but I don't think he was ever _simply_ a nice man.**

**Ahsilaa: Thank you! I came up with Winnow a long time ago, when I was trying to figure out a sort of District 4 themed name. And I remembered a graphic novel character named Winnowill, so I simply shortened to Winnow.**

**Emmeline's Embers: ;)**

Please Review Everyone!


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